“Eyes on me,” she said, cupping his chin.
He blinked, and she angled her head closer to his, catching his lips in a kiss.
I have to know it’s you. Her words rang in his ears, but before he delved deeper into their meaning, she thrust her hot tongue into his mouth, crushing any possibility of rational thinking. His body roared, sending him warning signs.
He stroked his tongue with hers, melding them together, teasing her, exploring her sweetness. She tightened her legs around him, giving him the chance to fuck her deeper. Harder. God, she wanted him like that, and he wasn’t strong enough to deny her.
He ripped his mouth from hers, his breath ragged. “It’s me, baby,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m the one for you and no one else.” The words escaped him before he made sense of them, but he didn’t care.
She adjusted herself on his lap, swaying back and forth, working that pussy on his dick. “Oh, yes,” she said, falling on the mattress and taking him with her. “Fuck me, Brooks.”
Growling, he grabbed her left leg and tossed it over his shoulder, so he could ram into her harder. Her inner walls clung to him in an airtight motion, his cock swelling even more. He felt his blood rushing to the tip, euphoria pumping in his veins. So close. So damn close.
Without taking his eyes off her, he retreated then slammed back inside, the way he’d done earlier, but with much more intensity. She scratched his shoulders with her nails, adding more sensations to his already overwhelmed system.
He continued the erotic dance, his balls slapping her each time he thrust faster, until she contracted her pussy around him one last time and announced her orgasm with a cry that reverberated through him. Following her cue, he withdrew then slammed into her one last time. His heart thundering in his chest, the loud groan he produced left his throat raw and parched. Flashes of light popped on his field of vision, and he groaned, succumbing to the pleasure riding his body, as she milked every drop of him inside her.
He slumped next to her, sighing with exhilaration. When he brought her with him, entangling their limbs, a quiet sobbing yanked him from his post-sex haze. Propping himself on his elbow, he glanced at her. “Why are you crying, Alexa?”
…
Alexa peered up at the ceiling, not making any effort to wipe the tears streaming down her cheek. Her vision blurred, and soon her nose got constricted. This wasn’t how she expected to end the night with Brooks. She’d had sex with a few other men after her stepfather had abused her, but she’d been able to compartmentalize her miserable past from the intercourse sessions.
Maybe the high level of excitement had triggered her—opened a small door into her consciousness she’d thought had been long shut. She hadn’t experienced much pleasure with her dates—the affairs had been pragmatic and mechanic.
With Brooks…emotions guided her, frightening her. She’d needed to see his face—needed to see him and realize she deserved this. Deserved the pleasure.
A drop of hope fell into her ocean of uncertainty, quickly infecting the banks of water, and uplifting her. She’d done it, despite old painful memories. She’d made it to the finish line and come undone.
“Is this anything I’ve done? I’ve never had a woman have this reaction after sex,” he said, his voice both playful and concerned.
She shifted on the bed, loving how their sweat-slicked bodies brushed. “What’s their usual reaction?”
He peered at her with a boyish grin that made her want to kiss him all over again. “They’re usually thankful and satisfied.”
“I’m both.”
He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Then why these, sweet Alexa?”
Sweet. She suppressed a chuckle. No one ever described her that way, and silly her, she got her stomach twisted upon hearing it from his divine lips. “I haven’t had pleasure with a man via penetration before.”
He frowned. “What?”
She chewed on her lower lip and gazed around his room. Tell him, her inner voice shouted. “After I got this scar,” she started, running her finger over her collarbone to draw attention to it, “I fled from home and never looked back. I dated a few men, because I needed to know I was still able to have sex. But there was never any spark, and after a while, I figured maybe something was wrong with me.” She imagined the face the buyers would make if they learned the infamous Madam Alexa had almost as little experience as most of the virgins she sold. Or shit, if the virgins knew she wasn’t the worldly woman she portrayed.
“Did some bastard touch you?” Brooks asked, gritting his teeth.
She thinned her lips, her heart tattooing against her rib cage so hard she heard the echo of the beats pounding in her ears. The image of her bald stepfather wearing a stained wifebeater and trousers—his home apparel after he returned from his work at the post office—populated in her mind. Come here, Allison. Come sit on my lap or you don’t eat dinner.
She shivered. Not only that, but if she didn’t follow his commands, he would hurt her. He’d hurt her mother, too. For so long, she hadn’t known if her mother had been an accomplice or a victim. She curled her fingers into a fist. Maybe a little bit of both.
Brooks touched her shoulder, squeezing it. “It’s okay, Alexa.”
No, it hadn’t been okay for a long time. But a man like him wouldn’t understand that her childhood had left her so severely wounded when it came to relationships, she probably would never catch up to the rest of humanity. “He started taking advantage of me when my mom wasn’t home. I was ten when it began, and I just remembered feeling wrong afterward.”
“Who was he?” he hissed.
“My stepfather,” she said, mentioning the man her mother had married when Alexa had been ten. Her birth father had never been part of the equation, and when she finally had one constant male figure in her life, she’d hoped it was for the best.
He shifted in bed, restless, until he sat up, shaking his head. His face set in a vicious expression. “Tell me he’s dead.”
Tension crackled in the air, and she rubbed her temple.
“Last I heard, he’s doing time in Florida.” Time for the fire that caused her mother’s death, but not for the abuse he’d caused her. She hadn’t wanted to be in her old life one more second than she had to, choosing to flee Florida and stay off the grid for months. Years. She’d lied, she’d stolen, and worked. She’d done what she needed to survive. A sensation of pride filled her chest, relaxing her muscles.
“What about your mother? Siblings? Didn’t anyone help?”
“No siblings. My mother didn’t know at first, then she pretended she didn’t know to keep her marriage. The night I left, he killed my mother, then caused a fire to try to conceal his actions. I heard it on the news.” A lump of regret formed in her throat, but she swallowed, willing herself to stay calm. She’d learned what happened days after she’d left. What could a fifteen-year-old do back then? No matter what the voice inside her taunted from time to time, she hadn’t caused her mother to die. If she had stayed, maybe she’d be dead, too. Right?
The muscle in his neck jumped. “What happened afterward?”
“I left Florida and never returned. Did what I could to survive. I knew if I came back, I’d be placed in some foster home, and then what? What if another man abused me? Or what if my stepfather had lied and people believed him? I couldn’t take that risk,” she said, remembering that until then, her stepfather had been an esteemed member of the community. He’d helped neighbors move, had donated money monthly to a charity benefiting fallen soldiers. He had worked in his job for decades—who would have believed her? “It took a while until I learned he’d been arrested and charged.”
When his eyes met hers, shock flew through her. Her confession visibly upset him. “Too many people failed you, Alexa. I’m so sorry.”
She opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. The tears burned behind her
eyelids, threatening to return, for a much different reason. “I—”
“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, inviting her to the warmth of his tight embrace, the cocoon of safety he promised. Her pulse raced, and the post-sex haze mixed with a strange energy growing inside her, filling her heart. Joy.
She’d finally let her guard down and shared her truth, and she hadn’t gotten hurt. No matter what happened from now on, she’d treasure this moment. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He tightened his hold of her. “There’s no need to thank me.”
“I should go back to my room,” she said. She’d mixed business with pleasure for a night, but she’d be a fool if she believed their liaison could lead to something more. Despite her big breakthrough—having sex and enjoying it—she wasn’t girlfriend or wife material. Maybe one day, maybe never.
But Brooks had the cute dog, the welcoming ranch, the housekeeper who had already dropped hints she wanted him to settle down. In the relationship department, he was miles ahead of Alexa, and she wouldn’t hold him back. Even if he had any interest in her, he’d be a fool to go public with a relationship with someone like her. He was a powerful man, and his equally powerful peers and family would never accept her. Hell. For all she cared, some of his business partners had attended her auctions in the past—with wives who probably hated her guts.
He kissed the top of her head, so gently that sadness welled inside and she had to blink to keep tears from streaming down again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
“But we said—”
He caressed her cheek, with the power of dissolving her worries. “One night. The night isn’t over.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, sending little thrills of awareness up her arm and through her body. Crap. If he kept at it, memories from tonight wouldn’t be over for a very long time.
Chapter Five
Brooks glanced at his computer screen. When he’d woken up in the morning, Alexa was no longer in his bed. He went to his home office after breakfast. Memories of their night together, of her sexy body entangled with his, swarmed in his head. Also, her revelation about her past.
He typed into the search engine, desperate to know if the story she told him was true. Within seconds, a link to a Floridian newspaper took him to an article dated thirteen years prior. Man kills wife, sets house on fire. Stepdaughter missing. A rush of agony moved through him, heating his blood. A picture of a young girl caught his attention, a slim teenager who resembled Alexa with her dark hair and blue eyes.
He read the caption below the picture.
Missing: Allison Weeks.
Allison. That’s her real name. He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes riveted on the screen.
A knock made him almost jump from his seat. “Who is it?” he asked to buy time.
The door opened, and Alexa meandered inside. He flicked off his monitor, a pang of guilt nagging at him. She’d told him the truth, and what was he doing? Challenging it. He curled his fingers into a ball. Having a rough childhood didn’t excuse her for her poor behavior. For being involved in Pamela’s death. For bringing all those women to—
“Hey,” she said softly. Then, she squared her shoulders, walking up to him with perfect posture like she’d locked her spine into place. “I’m here for work. You said we could talk to the other candidate today.”
“Yes.”
“Great.”
He tapped his fingers on the desk, restless. Damn it. He was too old to skirt around the subject. “You were gone this morning.”
She looked away for a moment, then faced him again. A flicker burned in the depths of her irises. “I thought it’d be best. Thank you for last night, which was what you said it’d be. One night.”
“One night,” he said, with the enthusiasm of receiving a death sentence. A night he wouldn’t mind repeating again and again, even if he damn well knew he couldn’t get further involved with her. “That’s right. Well, the young man I’m thinking of works at a different ranch. So we’ll have to drive for a couple hours.”
“Sounds good.”
“I need to finish some stuff, then we can go.”
“I’ll be on the patio. Just come get me when you’re ready.”
If only it were that easy.
She sauntered out of his office and closed the door behind her. Well, at least he was making some progress. Not about what had happened to Pamela directly, but he’d gained Alexa’s trust. What if she told him more personal stuff? What if he managed to get access to her office in Nevada?
He flicked his screen on again, rereading the information he found about her. Alexa had fled her stepfather, probably scared and definitely alone. How many times had he considered fleeing his home as a young boy? Too many.
He reached for his wallet and opened it, grabbing the picture of Pamela. Even though he was five years her senior, she had been his best friend—the daughter of the housekeeper. She’d understood him, loved him, had made his sour days a tad sweeter. He’d always known she was like a little sister to him—but the discovery that they shared DNA had shocked him.
And his mother, who certainly knew her husband was no saint, but had never expected him to impregnate someone. His mother had chosen to live in denial, no doubt.
Gina did her usual quick knock before walking into his office. “Hey, boss?”
“I could be on an important call,” he said, annoyed. Snarky remarks usually got him nowhere where Gina was concerned, and her attitude and spirit reminded him of the housekeeper he’d grown up with. Pamela’s mother. The one his father had bedded for fun, and then ended up destroying both families.
“I just wanted to say…I talked to her this morning. Alexa.”
“Noted. Anything else?”
She tapped her fingers on her apron, shortening the gap between them. “She had breakfast earlier and asked some questions about you.”
He scratched his chin, a chilly sensation sensitizing his scalp and putting him on high alert. “What kind of questions?”
“Oh, stuff like, how often you come here.”
Interesting. Had Alexa used the opportunity to gather information about him, or had it been small talk? Why would she want to go behind his back, though? Didn’t make sense. “What else?”
Gina tapped her fingers on a shelf. “If you brought a lot of women here.”
The apprehension vanished, and he relaxed his shoulders. A measure of joy flew through him. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m the lying bastard, not her. “What did you say?”
“I said she shouldn’t worry about these things,” she said. “Then she nodded and changed the subject.”
“All right. Thanks for letting me know.”
Gina did a semi-eye roll, the silent reminder she hated to be dismissed. “Look, I agreed on not mentioning anything about Pamela for God knows why. But I don’t want to lie about other stuff. There’s something about her that seems genuine.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And you should give her a chance.”
“What makes you think I’m not?” he asked in a teasing tone. Even if Alexa proved at the end she had not directly been involved in Pamela’s death…she had been an accessory to it. She had offered his troubled sister a place to sell her body, and how could he forget that? Besides, she gave other women a platform to sell their bodies, and he couldn’t be onboard with that. Hit too close to home to date her. Or maybe he was an old-fashioned schmuck like his father. Bile rose to his throat, and he brushed the thought aside.
“There’s something holding you back. I can feel it.”
He waved her off. His gut clenched, a part of him desperate to talk to someone, to confide. But discussing it would only cause more problems. Gina was a good soul, but not equipped to deal with this kind of conundrum. “Thanks for the free therapy session.”
&nb
sp; She walked up to the door and grabbed the handle, tossing him a sassy look behind her shoulder. “Who said it was free?”
…
“Are you interested?” A rush of adrenaline flowed through Alexa’s veins. Scott, the nineteen-year-old they visited at one of Brooks’s other farms, fit the bill. For the past two hours, they’d chatted with ease, and he’d shown smarts to go along with the all-American cowboy look. Blond hair with scrub-like curls at the tips and bright blue eyes. He’d come across as innocent if it weren’t for the mischief gleaming in his gaze.
She’d broken one of her own rules and offered him the position without checking with Brooks. Hell, hadn’t she broken a good set of rules already?
Brooks paced the old, empty barn. He’d explained they were in the process of changing outhouses, so while the animals were in the newer ones, there was still a smell of hay, mildew, and manure lingering in the air. At least the location offered them privacy.
“Alexa…” He used the same cautionary tone he’d used a few minutes ago, when she explained to Scott what she really did for a living and how he could become a millionaire overnight if he agreed.
“It’s okay.” She lifted a hand, dismissing his worries. Then she turned to Scott. “Listen, this is a verbal proposal. It’s an idea. You don’t have to agree to it, but if you do, you’re all in.”
Scott removed his Stetson hat and toyed with the brim. “Can I think about it, ma’am?”
“Of course.” She tossed him what she hoped came across as an apologetic smile. “We can meet again tomorrow, and if you’re interested, we can go over the details.”
“What if I’m not?”
“Then that’s it. Life will continue as usual for you.”
Brooks stepped forward. “I don’t want you to think for a moment you need to do this because you work for me.”
“Yes, sir.” Scott touched his belt. “If I agree, can I use a different name? Like Hollywood actors do?”
The Billionaire's Betrayal (Highest Bidder Book 3) Page 5
